


Black Magic

by waymay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Death, F/M, Muggles, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Occult, Romance, Smut, Unspeakables
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waymay/pseuds/waymay
Summary: Black magic is on the rise in the muggle world, raising the dead and causing havoc. With the Aurors stumped, they call in help from experts Unspeakable Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy to assess the situation.





	1. I Call Unto Thee, Bring Forth the Deceased

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, in celebration of October and Halloween, I came up with a new story! Don't worry -Empire will still (and always be) my baby, and it will still get my full attention. But, I figured this would be a fun story to write because of the upcoming spoopy holiday! This is a Dramione fic, so it does have a touch of romance in it. It will help enhance their dynamic though. :) This is mainly an adventure/mystery/horror/comedy fic -but fanfiction only lets you pick two! So I had to choose wisely, haha.
> 
> A shoutout to my friends Mr. Benzedrine (for helping me proof and being supportive of, yet, another idea!) and LightofEvolution (who is equally supportive and helped me with some difficult Latin translation). They both have their assortment of fanfics, and it's all amazing! Be sure to check them out when you have the opportunity.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters written in this story; everything belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I don't make any profit from these stories!

 

"What's up, _YouTube_? This is _Brad Michelsen,_ and today we're going to be playing around with _black magic!_ "

A hooded figure of a young man leans in towards the recording device as he greets his imaginary audience. None of his features are recognizable aside from the mischievous grin dancing across his lips as he moves back from the camera. His arms are spread out to his side as he gives a grand introduction of his room.

It's a small room, though -big enough to comfortably fit a full-sized bed, a desk, a small screen television, and a few other instruments set aside in the corner. The middle of the room is cleared out, and an outline of a large circle with a star in the center is drawn on the wooden floor. It is drawn in, what looks like to be, chalk. Where the points of the star touch the circumference of the circle sit five different colored candles. All of them are lit, flickering gently in the, otherwise, seemingly still room. Aside from the faint fires burning off the wick, there is no other light. The room is dim, and the camera is able to barely pick up the man's moving form.

There is a pause in the video as the big red words pop up on the screen: _Black Magic is REAL!_ The text stays for a few seconds before fading to where the video left off and the image starts moving once more.

"I've figured out how to..." Brad pauses for dramatic effect. "Bring people back from the _dead_." His hands move to the front of his face as he wiggles his fingers in a wave-like manner. Perhaps in his mind, it's supposed to intensify things. The hooded figure smirks as he moves to his table and grabs the book sitting atop it. "I received this a few days ago from a fan -thank you anonymous donor- with all these _spells_ on how to resurrect the _dead._ " He pauses for a moment, solemn, "as many of you know, my grandmother passed away a month back. Getting over her death -well, I'm still working on it." The man chuckles as he flips open the book to the bookmarked page.

With a deep breath, he sighs and sets the book down once again. His lips move but no sound is picked up from the broadcast, and then he nods to himself.

Brad grabs a small fabric pouch from the other end of the table before turning towards the circle. He sticks his hand into the satchel for a brief moment before he pulls it back out, his hand balled into a fist. The man turns his head towards the camera, and with another nervous exhale, he opens his fist, sprinkling the fine powder onto the center of the star. "Ashes from rotten wood." He rubs his fingers together, dusting the remaining particle, before wiping his hand onto his black robe.

The pouch is returned to its original location as Brad picks up a dome shaped object that is covered by a white fabric from behind the desk, hidden from the camera's view. As he moves the item, the camera picks up some quiet and frantic tweets. The man lifts the cover, revealing a bird cage, and he looks at the tiny parakeet fluttering within its containment. Once again, he looks over to the camera and moves the coop closer so his viewers can get a better look of the bird. "This is Chippy -my grandmother's favorite pet." The confidence in his voice wavers as he becomes unsure of himself -whether or not he wants to proceed with this next step.

"I miss her, you guys," another sigh comes from him as he moves back, setting the cage onto the table and popping open the little door into Chippy's house. His hand moves in and grabs the bird, his fingers closing in around its wings, preventing the avian from flying anymore. Brad moves to the circle once more, his feet barely touching the edge of the circle.

"Bl-blood for blood." The other hand reaches over towards the bird's head, clasping around it as Chippy desperately nips at his skin. He winces in pain, but continues on. With a deep inhale, he tightens his grip around the small creature and snaps its neck. The wiggling movement stops immediately as Brad continues to turn his hand. Cracking of the bones echoes louder than anything else as the bones snap bit by bit under his strength. Brad flinches as splatter of blood hits his face, gushing down his hands before it finally trickles down onto the ashes. A faint 'ugh' escapes his lips as he watches the powder absorb the red liquid.

He turns the bird, the fatal gash points downwards towards the floor, extracting all the blood. Once the corpse is drained, he sets the bird onto the ever growing pile of what seems like a hodgepodge of items. "A link to the deceased..." His hand trembles as he pulls away carefully not to mess up the mound.

Brad moves to the table once again, and he rips out a thin sheet of paper from the back of the donated book. He takes out a pencil from the desk's drawer and scribbles something onto the parchment. When he finishes, the still hooded man walks over to the camera, showing the audience what he wrote: Eleanor Michelsen -his grandmother's name.

"Right..." he whispers, lowering the strip, licking his lips.

With careful step after careful step, Brad makes his way to the white candle, sitting at the other end from the camera. He is almost shrouded by the darkness of the room, the glow from the candles are the only thing that illuminate his figure. " _Te voco ad mortuos invocandum._ " The candles flicker a tad, and he pauses, looking around the room. When nothing else happens, Brad kneels down to pick up the white candle, wax pooling around the taper drips onto the wooden floor. " _Te voco ad mortuos invocandum_."

He holds the paper over the red ember and the fire greedily licks the slip. " _Te voco ad mortuos invocandum_." Brad lowers the talismen, finally allowing the paper to be engulfed by the flame. He tosses it over the pile of items sitting in the middle, but before it hit the ground, the thin sheet disappears in a poof, with no traces of it ever existing.

Brad looks at the camera as he sets down the candle over its point, " _Te voco ad mortuos invocandum_. _Te voco ad mortuos invocandum_." And he continues to chant the same phrase over and over.

Suddenly, the flames from the five candles are extinguished all at once, and the room is dark. No signs of any movement can be seen on the feed for several seconds before the fire come to life once more, blazing in all its glory. The exuberant inferno stand just short of a metre.

Brad's jaw slacks as his mouth forms an 'o' of surprise, staring at the fire. And for the first time in the recording, his face is seen. A boy no more than fifteen years of age -no wrinkles, no stubbles, and skin as smooth as a baby's bottom. He freezes for a moment, perhaps forgetting what he was supposed to do next, but quickly resumes his chanting. " _Te voco ad mortuos invocandum_." His voice is more frantic now and his words stumble out quickly. His chest is rising and falling as the flames continue to feast on the oxygen in the room.

" _Te voco ad mortuos invocandum_. _Te voco ad mortuos_ -"

And the lights blow out once again.

There is a dim neon green light in the middle of the circle where all the items are piled up. And as if this light was making a hole in the floor, the items fall into it, disappearing. The light grows brighter as it begins to expand, eating away at the wooden surface and the chalk material. It stops at the edge of the circle; its brightness nearly blinding.

A low hum is picked up by the camera. It seems to be coming from the newly formed portal. Not a minute passes before something begins to stir the center. Something black. Something... three dimensional. It slowly forces itself out of the gateway, and it's black. A human figure of sorts.

Brad stumbles backwards, his eyes wide at the sight of his grandmother emerging. "It worked..." he whispers. Remembering he is recording, the boy stumbles around the circle, nearly slipping and falling flat on his face as he grabs the camera. "Holy shit, guys -it worked! My grandmother -she's back!" He exhales an exhilarated laugh as he points the lens to himself. "Hol-y shit."

He turns the camera back towards the green doorway, the figure seems to have almost pushed itself out entirely. Though, something is a little off. The figure stays black with no discernible features other than a pair of glowing red eyes.

"Guys... I-I-I don't know if-"

And the camera cuts out.

* * *

A snort of disgust sounded when the video ended, automatically exiting from its full screen mode on the laptop. Two pairs of eyes focused onto him as the man leaned back into his seat, a squeak sounding from the chair as he shifted his weight. He wore a scowl so dastardly no man existing on Earth could match, just as his eyes were uniquely grey in its own.

"What are you grunting on about?" His female counterpart frowned at the unintelligible noise as she clicked on the mousepad tracker, stopping the video from its countdown to the next one.

Draco rolled his eyes at her comment, "I didn't think muggles to be that _daft_ to believe in such an elaborate hoax." He sat up, moving a hand towards the laptop, batting away hers as he made an attempt to figure out how to use the odd machine. "How do you-"

"-What are you-" Hermione tried to help him as he tapped the tracker, unsure how to move the little cursor on the screen.

"-I have it!" He snapped, shooting a terrifying glare at her. The witch knew better than to help Draco Malfoy. She knew better than _anyone_ to help him. He was perfectly capable of figuring out this damned, stupid device! "There-" The corner of his lips twitched as he figured it out. Instead of tapping the pad, he dragged his finger along it, and the pointer moved.

It was like watching a toddler trying to figure out whether a triangle block could fit into a circle cutout -entertaining and frustrating all at the same time. Her nostrils flared, impatient. "Draco, just let me-"

He shushed her, holding a hand up to her face as the other continued to guide the mouse. It, finally, hovered over the red bar, a timeline indicator for where the viewer was in the video and clicked towards the the beginning where the big, red text appeared, reading 'Black Magic is REAL!'

She squinted her eyes at the blonde, though he continued to ignore her. Of all the parts in the video to choose, he picked that one?

"There is _no such thing_ as 'black magic.'" He held up two fingers from each hand, giving her, and their superior, an air quote -something he'd learn from Hermione several months back. At least...he was doing it right. "And I know _quite_ well that the dead _stay_ dead." Draco set his hands down onto his lap as he sat straight in his chair. "While this is a joke of sorts, it's not right to bring them back -regardless of how much _magic_ one might wield."

Throughout time, death had always been a rather _touchy_ subject. No one truly understood the concept of the end. Why it happened? Why people died young and others live to be centuries old? Where did the souls go after death? Was there an afterlife? Was there a Hell and Heaven? Could the dead still communicate with the living? What was the purpose of death? Were senses able to be felt with no body to tether them to? Could the dead remember who they were?

And it was Draco and Hermione's job to seek out those answers.

Much of their time was spent in the Department of Mysteries, tucked away behind thick doors of the Other Worlds Room and the Death Chamber. They spent countless hours researching death and the dead. Many a times, they would even find themselves staring far too closely at the ancient archway. In front of its portal, hung a tattered black veil. Every now and then, it would flutter upwards as if wind carried through it, though the air in the room was _always_ still and cold. While it had never been confirmed, many believe the Veil to be some gateway between the living and the dead.

They were to always work in pairs, lest one of them gets too caught up in working with the dead. It was safer to have a partner beside them, to make sure they didn't lose themselves. Sometimes, the voices were much too enticing as it drew them further into the unknown abyss. They didn't believe it at first, being able to hear the dead talk. They thought they were crazy when they first heard the whispers coming from beyond the Veil. But after working as Unspeakables for several years, there were very little things they _didn't_ believe in.

Except the idea of black magic.

"Don't muggles have better things to do than to waste their time on some bloody, lost the plot, _black magic_ shite?" Draco leaned back in his seat once more and crossed his leg, but not before accidentally kicking the bottom of the wooden desk, ratting the objects above. Damned muggles always making him lose his temper.

"You say that as if they sit around all day idly twiddling their thumbs." Hermione was back on the laptop, clicking away at the timeline. There was a pause in her speech, and she sighed, "But I do have to agree with Draco -why _are_ we here, sir? What does this have to do with us and our line of work?" Her chocolate orbs shot up towards the man sitting on the other side before returning her focus back on the machine.

Before being pulled into their boss's room, Hermione and Draco were in the Other Worlds room as they were, currently, focused on figuring out whether there was life after death. If there existed such a thing, where did this life go? Would it be a parallel universe? Or do they wait in some purgatory, waiting for their souls to be recycled back into their world? Or was there a whole other world, and the souls just pass on from one plane to another? Often times, these questions go unanswered. And more often than not, their hard work goes unnoticed, but it was the possibility of finding answers that fueled their drive. They each had their own reasons.

"This _video_ does not use special effects-" The Unspeakable sitting before them finally spoke up after listening to the two banter away like an old married couple. He was an older man, perhaps twenty years their senior, with salt and pepper colored hair and a white beard so thick and bushy, it reminded her of Santa Claus. "-Is that how you say it?" Hermione nodded at the man. Everything about him was square-ish. From his eyes to his jaws to even his shoulders -it all touched at a ninety degree angle, somehow. But as much as their boss _looked_ like a hardass, he was known as a big, soft teddybear, allowing his subordinates to take frequent vacations and even participating in happy hour after work. "This video -this video is real, recorded live, and broadcasted to the entire world through this site, 'YouTube'. According to some of our liaisons, this video has gone _viral_."

A frown made its way onto Draco's lips and his brows furrowed together, confused at the words his boss was using. "Wait a minute, back to the beginning -what are _special effects?_ "

Despite their situation, Hermione couldn't help but cough at his question while turning away from her partner to hide a laugh. He stared at her through slitted eyelids. Once she was able to swallow her laughter, she turned back to Draco. "Special effects is using technology in the computer to create various things, such as this video, to make it look realistic." Hermione wore a proud smile, as she always enjoyed being the one who knew-it-all.

A snarl replaced his frown as he listened to her arrogant explanation. He never understood _why_ the two of them were paired off as partners. Of all the other Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries, it just _had_ to be Hermione Granger. Working with her day in and day out drove him, quite literally, up the walls. But despite his current detest towards the witch, he needed his questions answered otherwise, they would just end up being sitting ducks. Or worse, he would have to follow her ever lead.

"What is... _viral?_ " He spoke slowly, unsure whether he used the term correctly. "It sounds like a disease."

Of course, the witch had to speak up once again. "Viral is when media, like this video, for instance, circulates rapidly around the internet, generating millions of views in a matter of days."

Draco could _feel_ his frustration bubble in the pit of his stomach was he was met with, yet, another word he was unfamiliar with. "What is _internet?"_ He nearly growled.

The corner of her lips twitched as she watched her partner fidget uncomfortably in his seat. It wasn't an everyday occurrence where Draco would come across an entire _world_ of unknown mysteries. And it was quite entertaining watching him squirm and demand a piece of her knowledge of the muggle world.

"I don't think we'll be getting anywhere with this case if we're to answer _all_ of your questions. Shall I fetch you a dictionary?"

* * *

" _Te voco ad mortuos invocandum_..." Draco took a sip out of his third glass of cabernet sauvignon as Hermione poured her second, "it's not even a real incantation."

She took a seat next to him, wine in one hand and the bottle in the other, comfortable in his presence, staring at the bright screen in front of them. She set the bottle on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch, sighing into the cozy cushion. The video played in the background, though the volume was muted. They watched it silently on repeat. Just how many times did they watch the video? Ten? Fifteen? She already memorized every detail of the broadcast, from the confident grin of the boy, to the ear deafening crack of the poor bird's neck, to the shrill of kid's voice at the end. But they continued to watch it, in case there was some detail looked over.

Though work hours had long since ended, Hermione and Draco would often find themselves working overtime on their own accord, both desperately seeking answers to their own questions. Just like today, they spent their time together, either in her house or his. Tonight, it was his. However, this time, this _task_ Unspeakable Cattermole assigned them was simply so... _odd_ that they needed the extra time to process everything. It required them to leave the comfort of their offices at work and even _leave_ the country to investigate this strange phenomenon. It would be their first grand adventure -if one could call it that.

They were informed the Aurors were unable to handle the case, because, while there was a body to investigate, it wasn't of the victim featured in the video. It was something, completely, out of their realm. And it frustrated them to no end not to have a criminal to pursue, which explained _why_ they branched out to the Unspeakables for help.

Hermione pulled out the manila folder from her satchel; the words 'CONFIDENTIAL' was written across it in bold letters -as if writing it on there would prevent others from wanting to keep their noses out. She rolled her eyes as she flipped open the portfolio, glancing down at the top photograph.

It was an image of a largely disfigured...creature. It was, certainly, _nothing_ she was familiar with, and she'd read the _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ several times. Being friends with Luna Lovegood, also, gave her the opportunity to learn about undocumented creatures, as well. This one didn't ring a bell.

Hermione took a sip of her red wine as she slid the image over, revealing the next one -a closer image of the beast. She shuddered at the terrifying figure. Who would ever want to _summon_ this kind of thing? Even if it was some sort of prank gone wrong...simply seeing it in action would give her nightmare for months.

And it didn't help that the creature donned red eyes. They reminded her too much of the Dark Lord, and she quickly skipped the page, suddenly unable to stomach any other pictures. It'd been long time since she last thought of Voldemort. The images of his pale snakelike features were still very fresh in her mind, though it'd been nearly ten years since the War. She shook her head, willing away the morbid thoughts as she continued on with her examination.

The following documents were detailed assignments for both Hermione and Draco. Each of them given an alternative identity for when they step out into the muggle world. As Unspeakables, they swore an oath to maintain secrecy of their line of work as well as their true selves. Only those who were close friends and family knew of their jobs, but nothing more.

Perhaps, it's why they often found comfort within each other -though more often than not, they couldn't stand each other's presence. Not being able to tell another soul what they did on a day-to-day basis was difficult. Hermione knew, and suffered, from first hand experience.

She delegated the work to Draco, handing several sheets of paper to the wizard, but he groaned in protest, hiding behind the wine glass. Hermione glanced over, arching a perfect brow, and continued sipping on her own poison.

"Raincheck, yeah? We have all weekend to look over this." Draco reached over and stopped the video, though it took several tries and him cursing at the screen before it finally worked.

A quiet chuckle escaped her lips as she nodded, watching the frustrated blonde try to figure out the mysterious device. "It has been a long day." She checked her watch -almost midnight. "I best head home then."

Hermione shut the 'confidential' folder and slipped it back inside her bag. As she was about to stand from the couch, he reached out, grasping a strong hand arounder her dainty wrist.

"Why don't you stay the night?"

 


	2. B.I.P.A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter took a while -I got into a sort of a funk with writing in general, but I think I'm back? Maybe? Life hasn't been treating me all that great, so I'm trying to figure things out while trying to not abandon my fanfics. Trying to make some lemonade here. Hopefully some questions you guys have for the fic is answered, but if I'm doing it right -more questions should be poppin' up! Thank you Mr. Benzedrine for proofing and readin' this -as always. :)

 

 

The Boeing 777 airplane landed safely on the runway of Los Angeles International Airport, however, Hermione's hand still remained purple from Draco's death grip.. He sat rigid in his seat, eyes wide, staring at the miniature television screen in front of him, though not seeing anything. For the first few hours of their flight, Hermione found it entertaining how he could practically _sleep_ on a broomstick, but be as nervous as a guinea pig inside a plane -but that amusement died relatively quickly when his apparent fear of the airplane didn't go away.

Apparating and using a portkey were not permitted by orders of Unspeakable Cattermole. Draco tried his best to convince his superior, yet there was just no getting through the man's thick skull. Apparition was only useful when one knew their destination, and since both himself and Hermione had never traveled to California, Apparating was off the table. The idea of Portkeys were also swept under the rug since Unspeakables were to remain discreet at all times -and on top of that, Draco and Hermione were traveling to a highly populated muggle area. Their means of traveling any way but the muggle way would result in many memory charms casted.

The intercom dinged pleasantly, signaling to the passengers it was safe to stand in the cabin. Nearly everyone unbuckled their seatbelts and stood to retrieve their carry-on items from the cabinets above. Draco stayed frozen, unsure how to react to the alien noise. "Malfoy-" Hermione hissed as she tried to yank away her hand. "The plane stopped. You can let go of me."

He blinked, for the first time in several long minutes, and glanced over towards the witch next to him, then down towards their interlocked digits. He unclasped his fingers, noticing the fading white imprints on her pale skin. Just how hard _was_ he grabbing onto her? His fingers were store and stiff. " _You_ grabbed onto me first." Draco muttered, looking out the tiny window, watching the people in yellow vests unload baggages from the lower compartments.

They waited for the rest of the passengers to leave before exiting the plane. Draco was still wary of the mechanical bird though he sat in it for the past ten hours. How everyone else was so nonchalant about the giant avian blew his mind. Speaking of -"My head hurts," he complained as soon as they were out in the lobby area of the airport. "Is this what it feels like to be a balloon?" He puffed his cheeks while pressing against the tragus of his ears. "It's like my ear popped when we descended." His grey eyes observed the muggles walking about casually. Many of them traveled in pairs, much like themselves, chatting away without a care. Others brought children with them who ran about, playing tag with each other.

"Try yawning." As if on cue, Hermione did so, covering her mouth in the process. "It'll unpop your ears and relieve some pressure." The two of them stepped onto the descending escalator towards the baggage pickup area. Hermione yanked on his arm as he hesitated at the moving stairs. They didn't need a grown ass man holding up the stairs, because he was unsure of muggle technology. Hogwarts staircases were one thing, weird robotic steps were a whole different thing. One misstep and it looked as if would just suck up his clothes.

"Ugh -what do you think me to be? Some sort of _ingrate_? I'm not going to _yawn_ in _public!_ " Draco managed to sneer at his partner while grabbing onto her hand for dear life. Only he could pull off a Malfoy jeer while still clinging onto Hermione like a baby.

The brunette, being around Draco for the past two and a half years, had grown immune to his jibes and jabs. His words bounced off her like they were rubber balls, harmless but annoying -much like the damned wizard.

As they finally stepped off the escalator, Hermione quickly beelined to their luggage claim number, wasting no time. When the witch wasn't watching, Draco quickly covered his mouth with both hands, summoning a yawn so wide, it nearly halved the side of his face. He wiped away the tears from the corner of his eyes before following the woman. "Where are our things?"

They made sure to speak quietly amongst each other, careful to not draw unnecessary attention to themselves.

"The luggages will come down that shoot," Hermione pointed at the square opening, which vomited out baggages after baggages. "I wish they'd be more careful with our belongings, though." She placed her hands on her hips, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited. A few minutes passed before Hermione saw hers. A smile made its way across her lips as she fetched her case.

She chose to carry light, bringing only one luggage with her, but Draco, being someone who never traveled the muggle way, decided he was going to pack his entire closet and shove his clothes into three different large suitcases. The witch watched her partner as he lifted each one, grumbling on about how rude muggles were for not assisting him and if only he had a house elf to help him.

"Watch your words," she reminded as he yanked the last luggage from the carousel. "Are we all set here, princess?"

"Excuse me, I do believe that's _Master_ _Malfoy_ to you," he grinned as he continued to wheel his belongings, "or did you forget our rules?" When she ignored him, he huffed, pouting a tad. "How far are we going? These damned things are awfully heavy."

"No one told you to bring your entire wardrobe with you!" She glanced over her shoulders. "I can't imagine you have much to wear -twenty black pairs of slacks?"

"They're different shades of black, mind you!"

Hermione laughed as he confirmed her suspicions. "You realized we can use other _methods_ of fetching our clothes once we get to our hotel, right?" She pointed at her case, and then whispered to Draco when no one was around. "Unspeakable Malfoy, don't tell me you didn't think to _charm_ your luggage."

A scowl drew across his lips as she mocked him. Hermione always knew how to just...get under his skin. Of course, it didn't cross his mind to charm _anything_. He was too worked up about actually traveling into the muggle world to think about magic. It would be his first trip being surrounded by an entirety of non-magical folks, and as much as he wouldn't admit to it, the idea of not being able to use his abilities unnerved him. Without letting his partner in on it, Draco even went as far as _buying_ muggle books (of course, his elves did it for him) and attempted to learn more about the mysterious world. Oh, if Hermione ever found out -let's just say, he would _never_ hear the end of it. The damned witch loved too much to show off how big her brain was.

The brunette made way towards a few clerks standing behind a counter, in front of large, gaudy signs which all read 'car rental' but in different formats and phrases. Draco, on the other hand, lagged behind, unsure of the muggle customs. Was he supposed to tag along? "Good morning. Hope you had a pleasant flight -how may I assist you today?" A lanky woman forced a smile across her lips as Hermione approached.

"Hello," the brunette returned the greeting. "I believe I have a sedan rental on hold -under the name Gadison."

Draco propped himself against the glass window, sitting on the sill as he watched the clerk and Hermione chat away. Unconsciously, he twisted at the sterling silver band on his ring finger; his fingernails picking at the engraved designs. The two Unspeakables were told to wear the garish accessory, by order of their boss, Cattermole. It wasn't anything like an engagement ring, but rather a jewelry which held magical powers -or rather, _absorbed_ their powers. This way, Draco and Hermione were able to live amongst the muggles without their magic interfering, giving them away. It rested on his dominant hand, the one which wielded the wand, as if the ring was to detect any form of magic useage, it would shock the user, usually forcing them to drop their weapon.

Of course, they weren't _forced_ to wear the item, though it was highly, _highly_ suggested, especially with Draco, being as he didn't have much experience with containing his magical abilities. Hermione, on the other hand, was, naturally, better at controlling her powers since she used to visit the muggle world more often. Nowadays, she hardly left London.

The two of them made their way towards an outdoor parking lot which was filled with rows upon rows of different cars. Draco had seen a few in his days, especially while working at the Ministry, though, he'd never been _in_ one. It would be quite the experience.

"Which one is ours?" he asked, impressed with the technology. Perhaps muggles weren't too shabby after all -not that he needed to tell Hermione. "Can I drive it?"

She glanced down, looking at the paper the clerk gave her. "I believe this one is it." Hermione pointed to a simple blue sedan as she noticed a brief disappointed expression wash across her partner's face -the car wasn't as _cool_ looking at the Mustang sitting a few rows away. What was it with men and cars? "And no -you _cannot_ drive. You've never driven a car before." She opened the back seat, setting her luggage in before prompting Draco to do the same.

"I'm sure it's not difficult," he muttered, dejected.

Ignoring his comment, she made her way towards the front of the car, opening the driver's door and slipped in. Confusion was written all over her face as her hand reached for the steering wheel, only to find it missing. "Oh!" She sighed, suddenly realizing Americans drove on the opposite site. "Confound it all." Hermione was seated in the passenger's side.

"So... can I drive?" He grinned, his hands on the wheel, turning it left and right as if it was some sort of video game.

* * *

They arrived at their _three-star_ hotel, much to Draco's disappointment and disgust. The parking lot was cracked and uneven. Shady characters loitered the patio. The front desk even barred a one-way window where customers couldn't see who was on the other one. Their bedroom wasn't much better, much to the Pureblood's dismay -he was even more disappointed at the sight.

Their... room, if he dared call it that, had only _one_ room with two tiny beds and a weird black screen, which oddly resembled the laptop Hermione carried, hooked onto the wall. A desk was bolted into the floor, next to the curtained window (at least there was privacy), and an odd foul odor floated about the room. His nose crinkled at the smell, unable to pinpoint exactly what it was. Something not healthy, that's for sure.

And well, technically, there _was_ another room, but it led to the bathroom, where the filthy toilet and shower were situated next to each other. Ugh -nasty! How... How did that even work?

He turned to Hermione, slipping off his ring and setting it onto the nightstand, "The Ministry couldn't afford to get us a better hotel? How do people live in this kind of condition? It's... awful."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Spoiled man child would never understand what it was like for normal folks -where money actually mattered. "Do you think _paranormal investigators_ would have the money to spend on a five-star hotel?" The thought of being just _that_ irritated her to no end. She didn't understand just _why_ they had to be paranormal investigators. If anything, being a Scotland Yard detective would have been more believable among the muggles, but _no -_ they had to play a part of crazy people who actually believed in the Other World. Which, of course, they did, but still! Muggles only saw it was some sort of gimmick. Who was going to take them seriously? Hermione had a tough enough time as a child with muggles, looking at her as if she was out of her mind when she first learned of her magic. It was deja vu all over again.

While lost in her thoughts, Draco conjured a new bedsheet, carefully discarding the hotel's sheets onto the floor. "You know... We could just push the beds together, and it would be a giant sleepover." When the witch looked up, there was a giant smirk plastered across his lips.

"Is that all you ever think of?" Hermione muttered as she rolled her eyes once more. She copied him, taking off the ring, and conjured up new sheets. One could never be too careful of what actually lived on the bed. She shuddered, remembering a documentary about finding ungodly things on the mattresses of hotels. This establishment was probably no different.

Once her bed was made, she pulled out the same confidential document she'd looked through the other day. Hermione sped through the gruesome photos, pulling out their identity sheets. "Do you need this, Draco?" She gestured towards the folder as he walked over towards the black screen mounted against the wall.

He looked over and shook his head. "Nope, I know very well who _we_ are, _Helena_." Sarcasm oozed out of his mouth, obviously disliking the identity given to him. Draco glanced back towards the blank screen, lifted a hand and poked it with his slender forefinger. A faint frown skirted across his lips as he poked it once more. Nothing happened. "Why doesn't this work?"

Once more, he poked it, and the screen flickered on. Sound emits from it, and a picture played -exactly like how Hermione's laptop worked. "Hey look!" Draco bounced just a tad, excited and glanced over towards his companion.

She smirked, a single brow arched, as she held onto a remote. "Not _everything_ is touch screen."

* * *

A couple hours later, with Hermione in the actual driver's side of the car (and Draco staring out the window, pouting), the pair pulled into a cul-de-sac. Their eyes were focused on the house across from where they parked. Yellow tape ran across the perimeter with black texts repeating 'CAUTION!' throughout the entire strip. Just what was it with people and thinking _caution!_ would keep prying eyes out of their business? If anything, they were just going to draw more attention.

"If you keep rolling their eyes, they're going to get stuck that way," he piped up as he shut the door, adjusting his white tie.

"I do believe it's, if you keep making that _expression_ , your face is going to get stuck that way." Hermione straightened her attire as she pulled the key from its ignition. "I don't see how this outfit is professional in any way." She was dressed in a pencil skirt, a blazer, and a button up that revealed just a bit too much cleavage. But, of course, when asking her partner whether she looked proper or not, all he did was give her two thumbs up, suggesting she made use of her assets to give them more access to confidential information.

Outside the house were several police officers. Three of them stood at the edge of the walkway leading up to the front door of the two story abode. They chatted amongst each other quietly until they noticed the two newcomers approaching the residency, and one broke from the group, approaching them quickly. "Sorry, this area is restricted. No one is allowed on site." He huffed, puffing out his chest as if he could present himself as more authoritative in the presence of the two. Draco _and_ Hermione stood above him.

"Actually," Hermione smiled as the policeman, "we're here on business. We received word of some...activities, and we're to investigate." From her purse, she pulled out a badge, which was inscripted with ' _British Investigations of Paranormal Activities'_.

The man took one look and burst out laughing, his bellows echoing through the quiet street. "Paranormal?" He wiped away a single tear from the corner of his eye. "You've got to be kidding me -there's no such thing as the _paranormal_ , lady."

Draco scowled at the man, disliking his tone of voice towards Hermione. "Have you looked in the mirror? That ugly mug of yours is what's paranormal. Looks like you've been possessed by a bloody ghost, you are."

His laughter quickly died out as the blonde snapped, and the officer took offense. "What did you say?" He stepped forward, menacingly. His thick brows creating a deep crease between his eyes, and the frown on his face was all too big.

She, quickly, turned to Draco, staring at him with wide eyes as she simultaneously pinched his pale arm. _Stop it,_ her expression read before turning back towards the man, and she flashed a smirk -something she picked up from spending way too much time with Draco. And in her most _charming_ voice, she said, "I'm so sorry. My partner is just cranky because of the time lag. _Boys_. They just don't know when to keep their mouths shut." A giggle escaped her lips as she shrugged her left shoulder. The officer loosened his reins on the two. "Anyway -the British Investigations of Paranormal Activities, or B.I.P.A., as we like to call it, delve into the... _odder_ cases, if you may. We-" Hermione gestured towards herself and Draco, "-figure out puzzles that stump our officers in blue, not finding what goes bump in the night."

The man, though, appreciating Hermione's calmer demeanor, didn't seem like he believed a lick of word she said. She was never the best actress, and her partner didn't help by wearing a nasty scowl on his face, staring daggers at the man blocking them from their destination.

"Here." The witch dug through her purse, and pulled out a warrant from the MACUSA -of course, under the guise of the FBI- stating Hermione and Draco had access to whatever they needed to figure out this conundrum. She handed it towards the officers who flipped through it, looking at all the signed document as if he knew what to look at -which he didn't.

For these guys, it was all about the mind game. Aside from wielding a gun and writing traffic tickets, they didn't have much power.

After a moment, the officer handed the paperwork back to the woman. "Everything seems to check out, but we've already got some other FBI agents working on this." He pointed, with his thumb, back towards the house. "They're in there right now, taking photos."

Hermione glanced towards Draco, unsure how to respond. Unspeakable Cattermole never informed them there would be others -at least, real FBI agents.

"Uh," the blonde started, brows furrowing for a moment, "we're additional support. They called us up a while back saying they needed more kits." He lifted the briefcase he pulled from the car, presumably filled with testing materials.

"-But why the _Brits_?"

Draco scowled once more. Were all muggles so damned nosy? What's this Brit thing? Were they too lazy to call them British? Actually -why did that even matter?

Sensing his animosity, Hermione quickly jumped in. "Right-" She slipped the warrant back into the portfolio. "We have some similar cases developing in Britain, and with this being ground zero, the higher ups believe we would be able to get ascertain some clues to help us in jump starting our issues back at home."

"Yea, we're just _drones_ following orders." Draco drawled, goading.

Unable to come up with any other questions -not that it mattered much since they had the necessary paperwork to access the house -the officer allowed the pair to pass through the unnecessary yellow tape. The man scratched the back of his head, pondering the earlier conversation.

And, just as the cop had mentioned earlier, there _were_ others in the house, taking photos and chatting amongst themselves quietly. A few of them even, carefully, held evidence in their hands, turning the object every which way. But, all conversations ceased when Hermione and Draco centered.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't the _Brits_ , finally showing up? Better late than never."

"Ya'll finally owning up to the mess ya'll made?"

 


	3. Foul Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi everyone! It's been a long time coming with this series. I've had a hard time picking this one back up after my life-funk, but since Empire is getting easier and easier to pick up, I figured I'd do the same and get the ball rolling with this one as well. Thanks for being patient, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Thank you Mr. Benzedrine for proofing as usual! :)

 

 

"I don't understand what we're looking at," Draco muttered as he shut the door behind him. "This is... the body?" He glanced over towards his partner with a vacant stare.

Hermione responded with a shrug. "Apparently so."

"Why wouldn't the others not tell us it wasn't human?" Draco palmed his hand over his gelled hair, making sure there weren't any strands sticking out -much unlike his counterpart, whose hair looked as if a tornado had just blown through it.

Hermione shrugged; her eyes were glued on the carcass in front of them.

"Then again, the MACUSA division didn't tell us much of anything," the wizard huffed, obviously annoyed at the not-human body. "Why don't they like us?"

Another shrug came his way. "Something about the Ministry covering up the first real attack. Our government thought it was just a hoax -some tricks pulled from digital effects, swept it under the rug, and said nothing about it."

"Odd. Aurors didn't try to investigate more?"

"As far as I know, the reason why they didn't do anything was because there were no bodies to investigate the first time around."

"So, this is the first case where there was a body?" He folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the back wall. It wasn't his first time being around a dead body, but this... this was really unsettling.

"Correct."

"Then why in the bloody Hell are they pinning the blame on us?" Draco muttered, now scratching the base of his chin. "It's not like our Aurors knew this would develop into something more."

Hermione sighed. Her partner was asking good questions -even she (the Miss "know-it-all") didn't have the answers.

When silence fell, they stood close to each other, uncomfortable in the space which the prior event took place. The room looked exactly the same as it did in the video they'd watched over and over -practically ingrained in their memories- though there were some things knocked over. Perhaps some sort of tussle happened after the recording ended. It was Hermione's best guess, at least.

Save from however the room looked, the other changes, Hermione noted, where the items used to 'conjure' the boy's grandmother were gone. Instead, it was replaced with a dead, rotting flesh -to which both Draco and Hermione covered their nose.

The blonde wizard made gagging noises, unable to handle the horrid stench, and pinched his nose, opting to breathe through his mouth, though it did no good.

She glanced over towards her partner, noting a green complexion to his usually pale skin. "Why don't you take the photos? Make copies for us to study later and copies to send back to Cattermole." Hermione pulled a pair of latex gloves out from her bag, slipping on the rubbery mitt, and snapped it against her wrist once her fingers were fit, tight and snug.

Usually, Draco would have something to say about his partner ordering him around, telling him what to do -no one dictates a Malfoy's action- (well, with the exception to his boss, of course) but he didn't want to get any closer to that... thing anymore than he had to, not even with a ten foot pole. So, he nodded to Hermione's suggestion (how he dignified it), and pulled out the ancient looking camera from the same bag Hermione carried.

She would have preferred bringing a digital camera or at least something more modern, but since they were doing this under government regulations, it was better to use wizarding cameras.

Hermione slipped off the sterling silver ring and pulled out her wand, pointing its end towards her own nose and quickly spelled her nose so she didn't have to take in anymore of the rancid smell. She took a step towards Draco as he was fumbling around with the camera, never actually having used it before, and reached her hand out.

"What are you-" he started, startled as she gently gripped his chin towards her. Quickly, she enchanted his nose just as she did herself and took the camera out of his hands.

"Have you never worked with one of these?"

Draco straightened out his outfit, uncreasing whatever wrinkles that had set in during their ride in the car. "No," he responded, haughty. "Malfoys never take the photos. We're always the subject of them." He watched her as she simply flipped the switch at the bottom of the camera and handed it back.

"You're welcome." She glowered at the wizard when he failed to show gratitude. As the witch slipped her magic suppressant band back on, she could feel her abilities waning, becoming dormant within her. Hermione hated the feeling but without it, the muggles would know, too easily, there was something different about the two of them.

"I could have figured it out," Draco muttered, lifting the equipment in front of his face and peered through the small lens at the back. His right pointer finger, resting on top of the shutter button, triggered it with light pressure, causing the device's front lens to quickly shut and open, capturing the uneventful moment, and a flash temporarily blinded his partner. "Oops."

Hermione blinked a few times, bright white orbs clouding her vision as she tried to will it away. Her brows were furrowed as she tried to regain her sight.

"Shouldn't have stood in front of me."

"Do you want to deal with the dead body, Mister I-can't-handle-this-shite?" Hermione snapped, rubbing her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. She never really enjoyed applying cosmetics on her face, but there were times where being an adult required it, unfortunately.

Draco looked over at the body, wrinkling his nose in disgust, and shook his head. "Nope."

It was surprising how anyone who visited the room previously didn't lose their lunch. What's even more surprising is that Draco's still standing, Hermione thought as she imagined the genteel wizard falling over dramatically at the sight of the creature. The brunette bit back a smirk as she braced herself -after all, she was the one who was about to get up close and personal with the corpse.

The carcass laid on the carpeted floor, fallen over on its side. The creature's mouth, locked open in rigor mortis, showed off its teeth -the entire set made of canines. A ripped piece of cloth hung from one of its front incisors but there were no traces of blood. It was the boy's -Brad Michelsen- shirt.

Though very dead, Hermione wondered, terrified, if the creature would suddenly jump back on all four legs and bite her face off. Its eyes were wide open, nearly bulging out of its sockets, staring vacantly at nothing. They were red, and it reminded the witch all too much of the monster she and her friends fought for years when she was still a mere teenager. She shuddered at the thought as she heard another click of the camera and its mechanical parts whirring for more film. It snapped her out of the weird trance, and her partner muttered, frustrated.

Hermione reached a hand out, touching the monster, only to hear another attempted vomit-sound from Draco standing behind her. She whirled her head, sending him another glare. "What?"

"It's...That's just so gross."

She rolled her eyes, exhaling loudly through her nostrils and turned her attention back towards the creature.

Her brows furrowed as she tilted her head to the side, studying the animal -was it okay to call it that? Hermione scanned the animal: it looked very much mammal. The head and body reminded her of a dog, or whatever else walked on all four legs, though it had no visible fur, just skin -but then again, even that was hard to tell. The body was burned, but there were also no signs of fire ever existing in the room.

A sigh escaped her lips. It seemed the more she took in detail about the creature, the more questions popped up.

"Merlin," Draco muttered, pulling Hermione's attention towards him once more. "I can smell the decay even with the charm!"

"Oh, deal with it," she snapped, whipping her head back towards the corpse. But, just as she did, she noticed a faint gleam in the creature's mouth. Hermione barely caught it. "Draco-" she paused as he took another picture, "can you hand me a pair of tweezers?"

"Tweezers? You brought tweezers?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, you can never be over prepared for these kinds of things."

"But we have magic," he mentioned as a matter-of-factly. Draco set the camera onto the same table, rummaging through her bag. "We can transfigure things. Oh, there's also wingardium leviosa- I remember you quite liked that spell during our first year."

"Can you hurry?" Hermione frowned. "It almost seems like you want to be here longer! Get with it now." She held her hand out, palms facing the ceiling, and shook it a few times, urging him to find it faster. "Why don't you just accio tweezers?"

"Why don't you?!" He huffed, glowering at the witch, who knelt a meter away. "Here!" He nearly threw the tiny tweezers at her. "Draco do this. Draco do that." He muttered mockingly, emulating the witch's voice.

"I do not sound like that."

"I do not sound like that."

"Pain in the arse, you are."

"If I recall correctly, you quite like my arse."

She couldn't see him, but she could imagine the haughty smirk plastered across his face as he made the statement, rendering her nearly silent. "Leave me alone-I need to focus."

And he did just that -absolute silence, with a great big grin.

Hermione held the tweezers in her right hand and the left gripped onto the bottom of the creature's mouth, holding it tight and steady. With amazing precision and steadiness, she stuck the pincers into its opening, clamping down on the object hidden within the confines of its jaws. "Paper?" she muttered once she pulled it out.

"Why would there be paper in its mouth?"

"I don't know."

"Is there anything on it?"

She unfolded it: a piece of parchment no more than five centimeters in length and width. "Yes," Hermione said, finally. "I'm surprised the earlier team didn't catch this..."

Draco made his way over towards his partner, peering over her shoulder. "Is that a rune?"

On the paper was a once meticulously drawn charm, blurred from having been in the creature's mouth. Both of the investigator's faces were scrunched in concentration as they stared, recounting all the runes they'd learned from their past, but nothing came to mind. Hermione flipped it over, but there were no other hints for them.

"Should we tell MACUSA?"

"Why?" his voice oozed with disdain for the American team. "They didn't help us one bit. In fact, they did the opposite of that."

"Yes, but this is pretty crucial evidence. What if this happens in other parts of the world? This would just be more icing on the cake for them to blame us." Hermione refolded the paper, holding it gently in one hand while the other, with her hand, cast a stasis charm upon it.

The blonde shrugged, going back to his camera. "Since they're already pinning this on us, we might as well figure this out on our own instead of pulling in incompetent, undetailed investigators to further muck things up."

She pursed her lips as she dropped the charm into her bag. Her rubber gloves came off, and instead of placing them into the satchel, she incendio'd it. "We'll inform Unspeakable Cattermole of the find and see what he thinks of it -how about it?" That way, if the Ministry decided it was their information only, then it wouldn't be Hermione and Draco's head on the chopping block if it was to leak that they withheld information from the other teams.

After a few more snaps of the corpse from different angles and distances (while getting constant urp sounds from Draco), the two Ministry workers wrapped up their investigation, finally stepping out of the room.

The American division had long since left, leaving without a word to the two, though they were hardly acquainted with the group. Not that Hermione or Draco cared for it.

When they stepped back outside of the house, the cops from earlier were still there. The two of them were rather bored: one was fumbling around with his phone while the other talked at his partner incessantly without even noticing the other had stopped paying attention. Hermione chuckled; it reminded her much of her partnership with Draco.

"Excuse me," the witch approached the two muggles. They turned to look at her, though saying nothing. "The boy who lived in that room," she gestured towards the upstairs left window. "Where is he now?"

The two police officers looked at each other, waiting for the other one to answer, but instead, the officer who had given them grief earlier spoke up. "Last I heard, he was shipped off to the looney bin."

"Looney bin?" Draco pushed his head back a tad, looking at the man, confused.

Hermione glanced over at him, answering for the cop. "Slang for mental facility -like Janus Thickey Ward, of sorts."

The blonde gave her a silent 'ah.'

Turning her attention back towards the officer, Hermione asked in her sweetest tone, "Would you mind if I get the location from you?"

The older man nodded, pulling out a small notepad from his back pants pocket and a pen from the breast pocket, quickly jotting down the name of the hospital. "Here you are, ma'am." Hermione thanked him as he handed the sheet of paper to her. "Are you two all done up there?" There was a hopeful glint in his eyes as he asked it.

"Yes, thank you for your cooperation," she smiled before she turned away and headed towards their rental car.

"Why are we visiting this kid?" Draco asked after they reached the car. He rested his hand on the handle as his counterpart fumbled with the keys, unlocking the door with two clicks of the fob.

"To see if he saw anything after the video ended," Hermione frowned at Draco before slipping into the driver's seat. "Are you sure you were an Auror? You sure ask an awful bunch of questions that even amateur PI's would know." She slipped the key into the ignition, turning the metal object forwards, and the car rumbled to life.

Despite being a proud pureblood, Draco was immediately excited that such a simple action could bring a large object to life. "I dealt mostly with chasing down ex-Death Eaters, you know -not solving weird mysteries like Sherlock Holmes."

"You know about Sherlock Holmes?" a surprised hitch sounded in her voice. Honestly, she was half-expecting him to ask her what 'PI' stood for.

He buckled himself in and shut the passenger door. "Of course. Just because I think the wizarding world is more superior doesn't mean I can't enjoy some muggle literature from time to time."

Hermione smiled, a hand reaching down to the gear shift. Despite having known the man for years -since they were eleven years old- he never ceased to surprise her.

* * *

For the first hour of their drive, Draco studied the paper found in the creature's mouth. It looked somewhat familiar to him, but he was unable to pinpoint where. For a little bit, he became intrigued by the scenery in California -never in his life had he seen so many cars zipping about. At one point, he even complained to Hermione to drive faster -that she drove like a hag in comparison to the rest of the vehicles.

During the second half of the road trip, Draco fell asleep; his head bobbing down every few seconds. He'd wake up from time to time, startled by their surrounding before drifting back to sleep.

Hermione smiled. It was cute seeing the so-very-proper wizard unguarded.

They arrive at the mental facility, Hillmont Psychiatric Center, roughly two hours away from where they were staying. Draco woke up as soon as she parked the car, stretching his arms; the palm of his hand pressed against the ceiling while his legs tried to extend as much as possible in the cramped space. While it was fun riding in the car, it became uncomfortable after a while. He needed to stretch out his legs before they cramped.

Unfortunately, when Hermione and Draco arrived at the front desk of the facility, they were denied entry. The receptionist said they didn't carry proper paperwork to prove it was an urgency, and even so, the boy was still a child, and they would need approval from the parents before being able to interrogate the boy.

Not wanting to have to jump back into the car after having stepped out just two minutes prior, Draco tried pulling his charms on the woman -to which Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust- but it was to no avail, and the handsome blonde turned away, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"You really thought that would work?" Hermione nearly sneered as he walked back, dejected.

His grey eyes snapped to her warm chocolate ones, a newfound smirk stretched across his lips. "Do I hear jealousy?"

She straightened out her back, "Of course not."

And just as the two of them were about to give up and call it a day, Hermione noticed a couple walking out from behind the restricted area. A husband was consoling his wife. His arms were wrapped around her trembling shoulders, and the woman sniffled, eyes puffy and red from crying.

She dabbed away the stray tears and spoke to her husband. "Do you think Brad will ever be normal again?"

The man was silent, unsure how to answer his wife.

Hermione glanced over towards Draco, who wasn't paying attention, and nudged him.

"What?"

"I think those two are Brad's parents."

"What makes you say that?"

"They said his name."

"That makes it the same Brad we're looking into?"

She shrugged. "We won't know unless we ask." With that comment, Hermione made her way towards the grieving couple, determined to find out whether they were the parents, and hopefully get some sort of headway in the investigation.

Draco didn't say anything, watching the brown haired witch walk off. He already knew it was a bad idea, though, he was curious to see how it would all play out.

"Excuse me," Hermione started, interrupting the two.

They looked up, blinking a few times at the witch.

"I don't mean to be rude..."

The blonde wizard rolled his eyes and snorted. That's always a good start.

"...but are you two Brad Michelsen's parents?"

"Yes?" the man said, pulling his wife closer towards him. "Can we help you?"

Hermione went off to explain her and Draco's role in everything. He'd been looking away, not wanting to be pulled into the whole situation. Though the witch tried her best to be as sensitive about the circumstance, they wanted nothing to do with her.

"We just said our goodbyes to poor Brad today," the woman sobbed into her napkin. "Can't ya'll leave us alone? Just give us a day to grieve before you come down our throats for more information?"

The husband held his wife closer, "Why don't you fuck off? We've given the police everything we know."

Hermione stiffened at his comment, rendered speechless. The man waited for a moment, watching her reaction before pulling his wife towards the door, exiting the facility.

* * *

She sighed; a frown had settled onto her face as she stared at the photos Draco developed earlier.

They were back at their motel. The sun was long gone with a full moon illuminating the otherwise dark night. The two of them had pushed their bed together, transfiguring their twin beds into a single queen. Draco was under the sheets, his eyes closed, though far from asleep.

As much as they enjoyed their work, learning all they could, sometimes, it was hard to just let it be that. More often than not, Draco and Hermione, both, had tendencies to take their work back home. Often times, it haunted them in their sleep. When they woke up, and they lived it while they worked. A vicious obsession neither really noticed.

"I can't sleep," Hermione whispered, setting the photos down onto her lap.

"Mmm..."

"It...Just, something seems so weird about this case," she picked up the photos again, flipping through it all for the twentieth time. Hermione didn't need the photos; the image was already engraved in her mind, but it felt good to just look at something rather than stare stupidly at the telly.

The blonde shifted in their bed, turning to her, eyes finally opened. "Your brain is going to explode from worrying so much."

She scoffed. "Please, this isn't even anything. Our sixth year in school -when Harry was somehow better at Potions than me? My brain nearly exploded."

"I was better than you at potions-"

"-As if!"

The blonde grinned, sitting up to lean against her, pressing his bare shoulders against hers. "I wager if we brewed something right now, I would beat you." When the witch responded with a roll of her eyes, his grin turned into a smirk. "Too scared to take the bet, Granger?"

"You're not worth my time, Malfoy," she stuck her tongue out and the wizard leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, his lips only centimeters away. Hermione, quickly, pulled up the photos, sticking them between their face, preventing their lips from touching. "I don't think so- after flirting with the receptionist?"

"I knew you were jealous," he laughed, yanking the pictures out from her hand and setting it onto the nightstand on his side of the bed. And in one swift motion, Draco pulled Hermione down onto the bed and tugged the bed sheet over their heads. He planted a gentle kiss on forehead. "We have tomorrow and the day after that -and however long it'll take for us to figure this out."

She sighed through her nose, grumbling under her breath, though ultimately agreeing with the wizard. Hermione wrapped her arms around the wizard, nuzzling her face between his neck and collarbone.

"Goodnight, Granger."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Remember to review (please!), and I'll see you soon.


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